Shock-Surviving the First Night
by BaldiDaughterChevy
Summary: A tag to the pilot. Sam reacts to the shock of losing Jess and as always Dean is there to get him through it. I know this episode aired over 12 years ago but I'm rewatching the whole show cause I'm obsessed and I felt like Sammy just really needed to have more of a reaction to everything he lost.


A tag to the pilot. Sam responds to the shock of losing Jess and as always Dean is there to get him through it.

I know this episode aired over 12 years ago but I'm rewatching the whole show cause I'm obsessed and I felt like Sammy just really needed to have more of a reaction to everything he lost.

H/c, and angst fic. It's really sad but I'm a sucker for sad Sammy and Dean taking care of his little brother soooo...you have all been warned.

This is my first fanfiction ever and it's far from perfect...rr but please be gentle.

I may call them "my boys" but obviously I don't own them.

Sam is vaguely aware of what's happening. He gets into the passenger side and hears the hollow thump of the door as Dean shuts it for him.

There's a painful ringing in his ears and he wishes Dean would say something or even start blaring classic rock like he usually does. Somewhere in his mind he thinks about sticking a tape in the cassette player but his hands don't seem to be working so he just sits-paralysed in the silence.

He sees a fly crawling down the windshield and he watches it with blank eyes. It zigzags and stops then flies down and lands on his knee, continuing its twitchy, aimless, journey.

He thinks he should swat it but he still can't summon the energy.

A memory hits him all at once and his throat burns like he swallowed glass.

Jess writing her philosophy thesis on the value of every life. She isn't...

(wasn't)

just beautiful she is...

(was)

so smart. She can...

(could)

meet Sam on an intellectual level and that wasn't something he was used to.

Even if his winking, back-slapping, big brother wouldn't believe him, Sam had fallen in love with her mind as much as her body.

Now he thinks about a conversation they'd had during one of their many late night discussions. She was sitting on the bed under a pile of textbooks and leaning back against the wall with her legs curled up, and hair in a messy tangle. She was wearing one of Sam's hoodies and it was so huge she had to keep pulling the sleeves up as she gestured.

"It's not like I'm about to join PETA, she says, but I'm just saying every single thing in this world effects everything else. Reality is a complex chain reaction, Sam." He watched her transfixed. There was a light that surrounded her when she talked about things that mattered to her. It made her that much more beautiful. "I don't care how small and insignificant the life might seem, don't you think it's important? Even a bug? Even a tiny fly? How can we assume we're allowed to decide what's unimportant enough to kill?"

That's how she thinks...

(Thought)

The sound of his brother's voice jars him from his memories.

"Sam." Dean is leaning over and saying his name gently but insistently. He looks up slowly and the raw concern on Dean's face nearly breaks through his numbness. This is the side of his big brother that only shows up when he knows Sam needs him; the Dean that tries to be the kind of dad he didn't have and the mother he never knew.

Dean's jaw is tight but there's a steady, practiced calm in his eyes. Even so Sam still can't move, can't bring himself to do anything but stare dazedly.

Dean lays a hand on his shoulder and Sam doesn't react to the touch. "I'm just gonna go get us a room, man." Dean says. "You need to get some rest." The door slams and Dean is gone and the empty silence is more deafening than ever.

The smell of smoke suddenly chokes him and he can't breathe. It's burning up his lungs, singeing his nostrils. He's gasping for breath and the panic shakes him out of his coma. Realising the smell is coming from his jacket, he rips his coat off and hurls it in the backseat.

That's when he sees his hands. Stained with dried blood. Her dried blood. His sweet, delicate, brilliant, angel that literally didn't hurt flies and woke him up at 2am to talk about philosophy and was miles too good for him but chose him anyway. Him. With his broken life spent running and fighting and killing and his secrets that eventually killed her. Her blood is on his hands and in his hair. It had dripped down on him from her body as she hung, screaming from the ceiling.

Then he's rubbing his hands against his jeans. Scratching and scraping so hard he's practically taking the skin off.

He can't breathe, he can't cry, he can't think about anything except she's gone. Everything is gone. Burned away. With it the young man who thought he could be normal. The boy who dreamed of a family and a life where the smell of blood and the taste of fear weren't as familiar as breathing.

He's gasping and choking when Dean flings the door open. Dean is at his side in an instant, crouching in the open door, kneeling down on the pavement, gathering Sam's hands in his own to stop him from scratching at them.

"Sam!" "Stop!" He shouts "Stop it, Sammy! You're gonna hurt yourself!" Even through his panic and shock and pain Sam is amazed when his big brother pushes in beside him and pulls him into a desperate, clumsy embrace.

There's a moment where everything stops for Sam; a dull pounding in his head as he's still unable to move. Unable to respond to his brother's unexpected display of compassion. He's still choking on grief and smoke.

Then the feeling of protection overwhelms him. He's like a kid waking up from a nightmare and his brother is the only anchor he has on reality. Only this time the nightmare is real.

The pain of his loss hits him all at once.

And suddenly he can breathe again.

His breath comes in great heaving sobs and he's crying so hard it's like choking on the air and the full weight of his loss is threatening to consume him.

Dean hangs on, while he curls up awkwardly, practically in his lap on the front seat of the Impala.

"Shh sh shh" he comforts him breathlessly, muttering nonsense and letting him cry.

Sam clings to Dean so hard he thinks he might hurt him but Dean just holds on patiently until his sobs slow down.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, his voice a broken mess.

"Don't be" Dean says roughly, still rubbing a hand slowly up and down his back.

Sam sits back after a while, ashamed of his breakdown but too exhausted to really care.

Dean is still holding his hands and he looks at him shyly and the gentle concern in brother's eyes causes more tears to fall.

"Oh, Sammy. Deans sighs and pats his shoulder. "You're gonna be ok, little brother"

"Come on" Dean says "let's get you inside."

 **So kind of an abrupt ending. I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **I don't ever write fanfiction but this scene popped into my head and once I got started I couldn't stop.**


End file.
